Second Tarao War [Istoloa | IC]

[The Macabees]

OOC thread: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=507258


Red dots represent capital cities, names given below. Dark grey are played countries. Light grey is new claim territory, not part of this RP.


TENIZA, IRAT

"Your choices so far have put us in an uncomfortable position, senhor presidente." The suited man took a long drag from his cigar, the tip burning and peeling back the chocolate brown paper, and then let out a long cloud of smoke. "Our government wonders if had been wise to...intervene in your rise to power at all. You are certainly making us start to regret that decision. Should we be regretful? Or, do we have it all wrong?"

President Junipero Lola eyed the man warily. He gently swirled the honey-colored liquor in the lowball glass in his right hand. "What would you have me do, Bernardo? Tell them 'no?' How much of their trade am I supposed to sacrifice for a pátria? How much of Irat's wellbeing should be held as collateral to my supposed debt to the Istoloan government? So, I have joined WEDTAG. That does not make me an enemy of Istoloa, nor does it mean I forgot who my benefactors are. I've simply made the choice that's best for my country. Rest assured that Irat will remain neutral in your war against Ladero and that, behind the scenes, a pátria will always be able to count on me as an ally and loyal friend." He took a sip from his glass.

The man named Bernardo threw his head back and let out a howl of a laugh. When he finally came back he said, with a smile on his face, "Istoloa didn't put you in power here for you to be neutral, Junipero."

"This isn't the 1980s anymore, Bernardo," replied the Irati president. "We won our war against you. I fought in that war, when I was but a wee lad, remember? Consider it a significant...improvement in relations that you can even consider a country like Irat an ally. Your people left us in ruins. You pillaged our homes, defiled our women, and did your best to erase our history. Now you want me to forsake our Tarao brothers in your sake?" He paused for a moment, taking another sip of liquor, savoring it in his mouth, and only then finally drinking it fully. "Tell me, Bernardo, what happens when my people start to think of me as a lapdog to Istoloa? Do you think they will still want me as their president? A man who licks the boots of the very people who once sought to chain us down like slaves? No, they would drag me out to the streets and put me to the sword if they knew the truth."

The Istoloan's gaze sent chills. "That is why, ultimately, the only people you can rely on is us. Anyway, don't you worry about the Irati people. They die easy, trust me, an Istoloan like me should know."

His eyes enlarging in rage, Junipero put his drink down on the side table, stood, and outreached his arm to point at the Istoloan in accusation. "You insolent pig of a—"

"Now, now," interrupted Bernardo, calmly, "don't say anything you might regret. The only thing between you and your demise is knowledge, is it not? Ending your political career would be easier than stealing candy from a baby. So, stow away your pride, presidente, and listen closely. Neutrality is not an option. You are to open hostilities with Sorofi, with the intent to annex the country. With Istoloan backing, you will be the first president of a unified country of Tarao."

Bringing a hand to his head, the Irati president sat back down with a thump. "A unified Tarao? Invade? Annex? Are you mad?"

"No, just ambitious," replied the Istoloan.

"How can you ask that of me?" asked Junipero, still dazed by disbelief.

The Istoloan shrugged. "Look, the times are changing. The war between Ladero and Istoloa will intensify, and that presents itself as an opportunity to you because Ladero will be distracted. If they're distracted, they can't intervene in your invasion and Sorofi will be alone in its struggle. With our aid, the annexation will proceed smoothly and Irat will be more powerful because of it. Maybe then you won't be the most junior partner in Tarao, but an equal partner with the ambition to be the master."

"Ambition has been the ruin of many men," answered the president.

Again, Bernardo shrugged.

Sighing, Junipero said, "I suppose that at the end of the day you will leave me with little choice. My demise will come now or later. You will at least allow me to do this my way. The Irati military is in no condition to invade Sorofi, let alone annex it wholly. We will be fighting a different kind of war, a longer, more protracted kind of war. One that might not result in the spectacular victory you seem to want, but one that will nevertheless bring about the result you seek."

"Whatever," replied the Istoloan, waving the Irati's words off. "Just make sure you get what we want done." He stood and walked out of the room without another word said.



SAMBOSA, SOROFI

News came from the south weeks ago that not all was good in Irat. Problems over immigration policy had come to a boil and militias in the north were striking out against immigrant communities and authorities alike. The Irati military deployed the bulk of its forces to that area to suppress the violence. The maneuvered had backfired, as the Irati militias were well prepared and simply melted across the border with Sorofi, taking advantage of the Irati military's inability to operate on the other side to use Sorofi as a safe haven for their attacks. This assumption, that Sorofi was a safe haven from the Irati military, proved to be false. Before either the rebel militias or the Sorofi government had time to realize what was going on, the Irati army had already punctured through the border and commenced their invasion of their northern Tarao neighbor.

In the future, analysts, scholars, and armchair "enthusiasts" alike would question whether the Irati rebel militias were rebels, or even militias, at all. Their appearance had been too sudden, their initial success to easy, and their retreat into Sorofi too convenient. The speed of the whole thing lent itself to skepticism. It seemed more like a thinly veiled excuse to declare war on the Sorofi government, and declare war President Junipero Lola did. Citing the willing harboring and abling of anti-Irati terrorist cells, the Sorofi government was accused of decaying and collapsing in entropy under the extended presidency of Marbalo Tutto.

A "rectification" was in order, including the dissolution of WEDTAG and the rehabilitation of PANTEU. In accordance with this, President Lola withdrew Irat from the former, although there were no initial moves to enter into an alternative trade bloc. Nevertheless, a 'lightning' military agreement was signed with Istoloa, which agreed to provide foreign aid, weapon and ammunition stocks, as well as thousands of "advisors" who would fight along the Irati military.

Along the border sat the town of Sambosa, the houses arrayed in blocks around a tall central hill on which sat perched the remains of an old walled city. A castle half in ruins was adjoined by the pillars left of what were once great temples. Below, in the modern town, the streets were bustling with action despite the news of Irati militias and war on the other side of the border. There was little expectation of the conflict crossing into the country, which had enjoyed a long period of peace since the end of the Tarao Wars in 1997. People bought fruit, vegetables, and protein for the day's meals, traded and bought wares of manifold varieties, and went about their lives as they would any other day of the week. Children were at school, parents at work, and any border activity consisted of the usual movement of migrants, workers, and truckers looking to cross the frontier in one direction or the other. When the first Irati mechanized columns entered through the south, quickly subduing and isolating the various Sorofi border patrol and municipal police units in the area, the city was predictably taken by surprise.

About three kilometers northeast of Sambosa was Campo Sambosa, a large Sorofi army outpost responsible for this stretch of the frontier. It was rapidly surrounded and besieged, its garrison waiting behind the base walls and subjected to an artillery bombardment that would continue until the outpost's surrender. All the while, the Irati advance continued north. By the end of the day, the invaders had covered some 12 kilometers and the Sorofi military, state, and people were in a state of complete disarray and shock.



BARBARO, SOROFI

The capital was in chaos. The enemy was still hundreds of kilometers away, but it was as if the Irati army was right at the city's gates. That, at least, was how everyone was behaving.

Truth was, there was more to the chaos than just the invasion. The Marbalo Tutto regime was reaching its final years. The president had first come to power in 1998 and he was well into his 80s now. His face was seen very little by the public and even most bureaucrats couldn't claim to have seen the man. Instead, he ruled from behind the screen, monitor, and display. They said he had lost his vision from macular degeneration long ago, but one couldn't tell from the two cold blue eyes with bright rid rims along their edges that looked out from behind the glass of the display. Artificial, his new eyes were said to give him vision better than perfect. It was as if he was 20 again, according to sources close to Tutto. Most doubted that that was the only enhancement done to him and few believed that he was nearing his natural death. But, his regime seemed on its last legs for other reasons.

A thick cloud of distrust and lack of confidence pervaded the bureaucracy. Since Tutto's fateful election, belonging to the government was more a game of surviving the internal politics than of governing the people. Men had lost their lives for saying little, whether through premature death or simply through isolation from the rest of society. Those who had experienced the "struggle sessions" of some communist states would recognize Tutto's tactics for what they were. Someone blacklisted might as well be dead, because their friends were now their enemies, their family now strangers, and everything and everyone they once loved now no longer interested in them. The perpetual stress, anxiety, and depression had become more than just character traits, but part of the overall culture. While Sorofi was externally and internally stable, as far as its security, Tutto was always able to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. Those he deemed threats to the regime were eliminated in one way or another; those willing to chain themselves to Tutto as his dogs survived and saw rising careers, at least until they got on his bad side. After more than 30 years of his rule, most had had enough.

As different police stations, power stations, telecommunication headquarters, and other important points of Barbaro were occupied by security personnel loyal to the coup, a separate column of armed men entered the presidential palace the day after the Irati invasion. For the most part, palace security surrendered immediately, except for a few heroes who were quickly neutralized. The president was found in his quarters; the old man was with two young women, all of them fully naked. The two women were taken to another place. No one would see them again. Tutto was arrested, given an ad hoc tribunal in the palace proper, and then hung for crimes against the Sorofi people. The Tutto regime had fallen and as the capital was in chaos, the Irati invasion continued.

In Tutto's place rose General Aleixo Florencio Sequeira, who in his mid-40s was young, charismatic, and had the loyalty of the military thanks to his position as Chefe do Estado-Maior-General das Forças Armadas (Chief of General Staff). Promising democratic elections as soon as the Irati invasion had been repulsed and the war tidily concluded, he took on the temporary title of Ditador de Emergência and immediately began reorganizing the country's defenses.

Later that same day, General Sequiera gave a televised speech to the country and the world:

People of Sorofi, we all sit in collective grief as our country suffers both the indignity of foreign invasion and the loss of our leader. But, rest assured, the invader will be driven back, defeated, and forced to accept terms that will set these injustices right. Our armed forces already prepare for a counterattack which will send the Irati armed forces back over the border and toward their capital. Our crusade against their grave crimes will end in our absolute victory. To accomplish that we are determined to rid our government of the rot that has beset it over the past 30 years. For too long we have accepted tyranny as the price for freedom, but that is not an exchange the people agreed to and it's not an exchange we can stand for. Marbalo Tutto has broken trust with his people by taking advantage of their good will to build himself a corrupt dictatorship with which to feed his fancies. That corruption is no more. Now we look forward to victory, prosperity, and the achievement of national happiness. Glory to Sorofi!

As the short televised speech ended, Tutto's cold body was slowly lowered into an unmarked grave somewhere outside of the capital city.

[The Macabees]

SOUTHERN SOROFI

"Sabrao, take point," commanded the barrel-chested officer.

The young Irati soldier he was apparently directing himself to quickly did as told, sounding off a well heard, "Yes, capitão."

Their company sat on the outskirts of Bimbaboso, a small town of mayhaps twenty-five thousand people. Together with the entirety of their battalion, they were to take it by the early afternoon. As best Sabrao understood, which as a simple soldado wasn't much, inside Bimbaboso spanned three strategically important bridges over the River Panoga. They were able to carry the weight of the heavy armored fighting vehicles needed for the spearheads of the offensive. Problem was, Sabrao hadn't seen a tank in days except for the smoldering steel carcass of armored vehicles knocked out by the enemy. He saw Sorofi counterparts in equal state, but what was important was that the Irati army no longer seemed as triumphant-looking as it had days before. Besides, the pace of their advance had slowed down and the fighting was getting heavier. No matter, it wasn't Sabrao's place to think, at least not about things like military strategy. He kept his mouth shot, arrived at the head of his company, and then along with an infantry squad moved toward the narrow, winding road that disappeared into the town. It was the route he was to lead the squad through.

Surprisingly enough, when he reached where the road first entered Bimbaboso, he wasn't shot right then. The squad continued inside. No resistance made itself evident, and so another soldier from the squad signaled to someone where the rest of the company was, and at that point the captain ordered the rest of his men forward. One squad entered through a smaller street further to the west and another further to the east, while the last twelve-man squad remained outside the town in reserve. Elsewhere, the battalion's other companies were doing the same.

Through each of their channels, each squad moved deeper and deeper into the town. Still, there was not a peep heard as far as resistance. Neither was their evidence of civilian life. Had the town been evacuated before the arrival of the Irati army? Or, were the people simply hiding in cellars or inside bomb shelters? The boys started to think that everyone had left Bimbaboso and the Sorofi had left it undefended. If it wasn't for their sergeants and officers telling them to keep discipline, half the Irati soldiers would probably already be drinking in celebration. Indeed, it seemed there was more drinking, singing, and dancing being done than fighting. Perhaps that was the reason the invasion no longer seemed to be moving as briskly as it did on the first day. The young Sabrao paid the rest of the men no mind, though. He kept his eyes sharp, as he had been chosen as point man and that was a job not to be taken lightly. If he did it well, maybe just maybe he'd get a promotion and perhaps even be chosen as team lead. His family back home would be proud of him, their little boy having made himself a hero of the war.

Turning around, he saw some of the other soldiers enter into the flanking buildings, probably looking for signs of the enemy or the town's inhabitants. Before he had a chance to have even the thought of a thought, someone tugged him by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door of a house. "Open it, Sabrao." It was Turros, the team lead. "Go on, man, the faster we clear the house, the faster we eat lunch."

Sabrao checked the door frame for any booby traps first, but found nothing. Breaking the door lock, he pushed it open, and walked in. Just inside there was a long, thin wooden table against the right wall with a mirror hanging above it. There was a plate for keys, which were gone. The hall ended on the other side with a door. A window within it betrayed what was on the other side, a small garden surrounded by a wooden fence. On the right, there were two doors. One led to the kitchen, Sabrao saw. The other into a dining room connected with the kitchen through the adjacent wall. Opposite the dining room, on the other side, was a door to a living room and behind that a narrow staircase that headed upstairs. Tapping on his shoulders, that's where the team led pointed Sabrao to continue toward.

He did just that, heading upstairs by his lonesome so that he could declare it cleared. Then, they'd probably lollygag in the house, loot anything and everything they could, and not leave until someone came to get them or they felt they had wasted enough of the day's time doing little of value. Irati soldiers were content staying put, rather than risking death by moving on to the next town. This one seemed cozy enough for the night, anyway.

Upstairs, there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. He walked by the first two and peeked inside, seeing nothing. They were smaller, for the children supposedly. The next one was much larger and had a bathroom of its own, he saw once he poked his head inside. It too was empty, but if there was any jewelry or anything else of value, then Sabrao would find it in this room. He began rummaging through the drawers, first in the nightstand, then to the larger clothes dresser, and after finding very little he finally turned to a large armoire that stood from the floor to the ceiling.

Slowly, he opened the armoire's right door. There were jackets that hid his view from the rest of what was inside. So, he opened the left door. He saw the shaking barrel of the gun just as it squared on his face.

The bullet went between his eyeballs and Sabrao died a quick death, his brains spilling all over the bed behind him and the blood pooling on the floor on which his corpse landed.

The sound of the round being fired alerted those below and outside, but just as they turned to look at the source of the commotion an even larger problem began raining down from above. Shell after shell poured in on them, as if from the heavens, exploding gravel, brick, and human tissue alike. As Irati soldiers ran for cover in the streets, the shutters in the buildings up above suddenly opened and from them the enemy began to open fire. Irati died below in droves, bullets ripping through their uniforms and bodies. The living jumped over their dead and wounded brothers in a savage quest to stay alive.

Order among the Irati broke down quickly. The captain was dead. Half of his company was dead or in the process of dying. The rest were quickly headed in the same direction. Without anyone willing to rally them, the Irati infantry company broke into a full-fledged rout as anyone who could ran back out of Bimbaboso and into the countryside. Behind them, they left their comrades who had suffered from the worst of it.

The young Sabrao, with two holes in his head, looked out into space. He would not be returning home the hero he thought he was becoming.



TENIZA, IRAT

"Mr. President, the offensive has all but stalled," reported the general. He looked somber and not exactly thrilled to be delivering the news. Rumors had it that the president had been losing his nerves over the past few days. The war against Sorofi, which at first seemed so promising, was going awry quickly and nobody in the capital knew what to do to fix it. Regardless, the president had to be told the truth.

For his part, Junipero Lola seemed older than he ever looked before. The dark bags under his eyes were as heavy as ever. And if his hair was graying already, it now looked fully grey. Of course, such a transformation cannot happen so quickly in a man, but that he looked it was a testament to how tired Lola must have felt. The frustration sounded in his voice. "That's no good, general. No good. Get the offensive moving again. We must strike the enemy capital quickly, then the war will be over."

"We don't have the men," said the general. "Our progress has gone more slowly—"

"I KNOW THE OFFENSIVE IS GOING MORE SLOWLY THAN ANTICIPATED," yelled Lola, who was evidently tired of the same 'ol story. "I'm the one who set the army's objectives. I know when they are not being met. Why aren't the objectives being met? That's the question. Are they too ambitious? Perhaps, but you and your general friends told me otherwise when I first asked about our prospects. You said the war would be over in weeks. Now it looks as if we'll be lucky if it's over in months. I think you're doing a piss poor job of doing what I ask, general. That's what I think. I hear the trumps are drinking on the field and having parties, when they should be sober, disciplined, and always moving toward the next objective. I hear that sometimes units are delayed by as much as 24 to 48 hours in moving from objective to objective, and not because of combat. What is going on, general? Are you participating a conspiracy to commit sabotage?"

The general suddenly seemed afraid of something. "No, no, president, no sabotage. The troops are greener than we thought, sir. We didn't realize they would atrophy after so many years since the last wars."

"So, what? What is that you're saying? What do you need in order to complete what I ask?" asked the president.

"More troops," said the general. "Simply, we need more troops."

President Lola turned away to think, clasping his hands behind his back. He walked to a large window that faced out of the presidential palace and toward a large square below. There were hundreds of people organized around the fountain with signs in their hands, chanting against the war as they walked in circles. "This war will be our ruin, general. Unless you and the military win it. That is our only hope. Otherwise, they will get rid of all of us, not just me." He nodded toward the protestors below. "How many troops do we have in reserve?"

"700,000, of which perhaps 100,000 is truly combat-ready," replied the military man. "Another 100,000 are almost combat-ready, the rest are hardly any better than a militia. It will take time to turn them into a fighting force capable of going on the offensive. But, with the 100,000 we have, that will be enough to tip the initiative back in our favor. We can use them for a drive on Barbaro, the capital."

"Do as you must, general," said the president, who was still looking out the window in worry.

"Mr President," said the general, tentatively.

Lola turned. "Yes?"

"When we surge our offensive, I recommend you reach out to the government in Barbaro and propose a peace." With that, the general came to attention, saluted, and left the room.

[The Macabees]

SOUTHERN SOROFI

As more Irati troops flowed into Sorofi, the offensive operation picked up its pace. But, success was fleeting and it was quick to stagnate again. Blame lay everywhere, at every level of both the Irati military and civilian administration, as corruption, incompetence, and negligence infected each and every person involved in the war. Even the foot soldiers were lazy, cowards, and more likely to withdraw than to persist in an attack.

A few anecdotes are enough to illustrate the problem —

An infantry division was tasked with taking the Sorofi city of Rebongos. Two of its battalions formed the initial attack force, entering Rebongos from two opposite directions. The resistance allowed both battalions to penetrate deeply into the city, so much so that at one point it was believed that its taking wasn't being resisted by the Sorofi military. What an error that line of reasoning was, as soon later all of Rebongos was alight with gun- and artillery fire. Ambushed and in full panic, the two battalions began a wholehearted rout and when elements came upon each other, believing the other one to be the enemy, they opened fire and killed each other. Thus, the first assault on Rebongos ended as not only an utter failure but also as a tragic embarrassment resulting in thousands of friendly-fire casualties. The city wasn't taken until the next day, as the division commander absolutely refused to initiate another attack until he was reinforced. Of course, rather than being replaced, the commander was commended as he was the cousin of one of President Junipero Lola's top civilian advisors. Removing him from command was a political death sentence to the brave man seeking only to provide his troops with functional leadership.

At the large town of Taxa, two days before the blustering attack on Rebongos, a battalion of Irati infantry with orders to continue the advance toward the city of Ribeixal instead remained at Taxa for three days. When a divisional staff member was sent to investigate the situation and report back, because the battalion had gone "dark," it was found that the battalion was too busy at the local brothels and bars to continue on with the war. That was too negligent, even for the Irati military, and so the battalion commander was promoted into a staff position.

But, the worst example of utter ineptitude was at Lugena, a small village of less than 1,200 souls. Almost all of the civilian population had evacuated by the time an Irati infantry company entered and besieged the gendarme garrison on the outskirts. The barracks building was occupied by little more than 20 enemy paramilitary forces, a fifth of the strength of the Irati company. Rather than risk their lives by storming the building, the company settled down and determined to end the siege by starving the defenders into submission. Rather than maintain a strict and tight cordon around the building, however, the Irati soldiers decided to occupy the nearby buildings and spread themselves out among the abandoned homes for the sake of their own comfort. That night, noting the laxity of the cordon, the Sorofi garrison sallied and attacked the Irati soldiers in their individual groups. Thrown into chaos, the infantry company routed. Lugena was not re-taken until two days later, and the 20-man garrison had left by then.

Unsurprising then that the offensive quickly died again, despite the large number of reinforcements precedent from the south.



LAVENÇA, LADERO

Ambassadors from Irat and Sorofi were meeting in Lavença, read the news. Ladero was leading talks for a ceasefire agreement, after which negotiations for an end to the war would commence. Reporters were upbeat and optimistic, estimating that the conflict would be done and over by the end of the week. Irat's invasion of Sorofi had failed, the border would be restored to its pre-war boundaries, and Irat would be responsible for paying Sorofi an indemnity for the damages and wrongs committed during the war.

Of course, the atmosphere in Lavença was already extremely tense. Very little of what had been damaged by Istoloan bombs had been fixed, and the threat of an Istoloan invasion still hung over the capital city like a dark cloud. Most had expected the invasion to come already, but events in Tupenga were enough to give pause to the tempo of Istoloan plans. Nevertheless, Istoloa's punishment for Ladero's withdrawal from PANTEU was evidently not yet complete and the bombing had continued to this very day. Now, it had become a game of Zvezdan Roulette and the question was which chamber, or — in this case — day, held the round. As a result, it was almost universally agreed that ending the Irat-Sorofi conflict was an immediate priority.

Unfortunately for Ladero, Istoloa understood that the time for an invasion was as ripe as ever...



EASTERN LADERO

The strait between Asadabad and Istoloa was closed the day ceasefire talks between Irat and Sorofi began. The next day, the Istoloan navy closed the straits between itself and Sorofi. For the time being, the Tarao countries would not be able to receive commercial merchant ships or military support, as Istoloa had closed all naval traffic in these waters. Merchant ships headed for Istoloa would have to exclusively use eastern ports.

On that same day, two mechanized divisions were airlifted from northwestern Istoloa to eastern Ladero, and so began the Istoloan invasion. Ladero was a peninsula that curved right, almost at a ninety-degree angle. Istoloan high command reasoned that by taking the land east of the capital, they would more effectively cut off foreign logistical support for Ladero and allow for a combined arms operation against the capital from the north. A second prong would come from the south, after Istoloan troops landed in Irat and moved north to join the offensive operation against Sorofi, but this hadn't happened just yet.

The Laderan military was not entirely modern, but it was not outdated either and was, for all intents and purposes, good. But, the loss of its air force to the surprise Istoloan bombing campaign was a major blow and without air cover the Laderan ground forces found themselves unable to resist the invasion by means of a pitched battle. As more Istoloan units were airlifted into the country over time, the invasion picked up steam. The situation, it was quite clear to everyone, was critical for the defenders and it was likely that the capital city, Lavença, would be under threat attack before the end of the war's second week. Thus, just as the Irat-Sorofi war seemed on the verge of resolution, and just as Ladero solidified its role as leader of the Tarao countries, Istoloa had changed the situation's balance and was now weeks away from restoring its political influence over its former colonies.

[Holy Marsh]

Marshite forces in Federal Ralkovia were at an all-time low of 7.8 million, but that did not exclude them from intervention in Ladero. For some time the Theocracy had been watching the lands of the west, the former empire being one of interest to Marshites some time ago. Multiple former colonies held interest to the Theocracy due to the presence of members of the Faith, such as Tupenga. There, the Theocracy had been supplying and more recently training the locals with over 210 'advisors' from the Marshite Rangers in country. Fustera- Marshites lived there too among the oppressed, in numbers enough to give attention to. They had not yet rebelled but the seeds were there, the protests were there, and it was known that soon there would be violence.
It was not just the Marshite populations that interested the Theocracy, but the Taoro countries as well. Their resistance against foreign oppression and cries of freedom were sweet to Marshite ears. However, it was expected that Istoloa would not allow their empire to die peacefully.

As such, after the Ralkovian War ended, Marshite forces in the region started planning future operations. The Regime? Of course, yes, yes. That was a foregone conclusion. What they were planning for in addition, however, was to support the free nations of the WEDGAT against Istoloan aggression. It was expected that in the case of an open shooting war, Istoloa would block off the entrances to the sea nearby. This would prove an impendent, but not a fatal one. While the main war against Ralkovia was over, dozens of small battles and campaigns were launched along the whole length of the river. Coalition forces had created a series of strongpoints from the Bay of Chains to up the river to Ralkovia and along its massive tributaries. These forces interdicted slave trading when they could using their fleets and marines, and when the Ralkovian forces were too great, simply passed the information along to waiting fleets in the Bay of Chains. Ships were sunk and men killed on a daily basis along its length. Such was the price of freedom.

When the first air raids over the capital had ended and the first pleas made, the Theocracy responded.

Two Marine divisions were being earmarked for relief efforts in the area when they received the word that their operational objective had changed. Protected by multiple tactical fleets they steamed up the river per normal. The cat and mouse game played with Ralkovia here continued- their powerful fleets and allied fleets refused to engage in the river. It would bottle Ralkovia in and prevent future allied operations. Still, Ralkovia had their red line- the Marshites did not yet go past the break in the river for more than a few miles, lest a larger war break out. They would then turn west, then south, through the open waters and the last outposts in the wild lands. Their goal was to land in the north of Ladero and help stabilize that nation. They would not be the first Marshite to arrive, however.

Multiple Anti-Air and Armored Regiments, supported by two full brigades of elite airborne infantry (comprising most of the 170th and 45th Airborne), would be the first to arrive accompanied by the 501st Air Wing. They would land in western Ladero and liaison with the local military in order to defend this land. These forces were but one of many, as M-SAD started to put into motion many plans set aside for Istoloa.

"From the Desk of the Arch-Bishop:

Friends in Ladero, your prayers have been answered. Marshite forces will come to your aid, first as a trickle, then as a flood. Your victory will taste all the better for the friends you have made.
Foes in Istoloa, war comes to you for as long as you pursue aggression. The outcome is decided even now. You must only choose how many must die before you are thrown back in defeat.

In the Embrace of Communal Marshism Go We."

As the airborne forces closed in and the Marines did so as well, the invasion of Ladero by Istoloa had begun.

[Eitoan]

Department of Foreign Affairs
Vladarsik, Eitoan
Office of Undersecretary Marilyn Stegman

It was a cold, bleak Wednesday afternoon in Vladarsik. At her desk, Marilyn Stegman reviewed carefully the list of requests for the upcoming trade agreement with Cartoonia. There were the reductions in red tape desired by the leading auto parts companies, standardization of approvals for Class 2 medicines, and streamlining of export credit procedures from Central Corridor corn growers. It was pretty mundane stuff, and fortunately she only had to give it brief consideration before the final OK and send off to the negotiators. Her attention turned to matters closer to home, in particular south of home, on the continent.

The Bay of Chains was always a place to be avoided in Eitoan foreign policy. Troublesome, quarrelsome, dominated for years by the Ralkovian Empire, this was one trap avoided by Eitoan diplomats. As far as Foreign Affairs was concerned, The Golden Throne had brought some stability in the area, at least as far as leashing Potthan, and they were welcome to the whole damn place. That reflected the thinking of all parties in the Legislature, and the man and woman in the street. Further to the south, in the Creoloso countries, the big powers seemed to be dealing the banana republics among each other like so many poker chips. The Golden Throne had sent a garrison to the wobbly government in Samarasta, and Holy Marsh was showing the flag in Tupenga. Here too, the average Eitoan could not care less who ran what down there, at least until coffee prices jumped, or cigars became scarce. Overall, despite the recent unsteadiness, business continued. President Shrdlu was more wary about the turn of events in Fustera, though. The Ordenite Reich was busy putting it’s stamp on the population down there, usually at the expense of the Creoloso natives. Politicians in the Ghastak and the Dashez were peering nervously at developments there. Human rights advocates could rally for more asylum seekers. This could trigger a reaction, possibly a revival from a far right now discredited in the wake of the Ralkovian War. The President’s Free Democrats and the conservative Civic Platform were getting agitated about a possible flood of unwanted, unskilled foreigners, particularly among the members of the Dashez. And she was sure that the propaganda arm of the Ordenite Reich was always happy to stir the pot.

Stegman had some satisfaction in initiating the proposal to use tensions around Fustera to cudgel Richtofen into abandoning a Raskov restoration. War had been avoided, even though the forces assembled for an expedition in Fustera, both Eitoan and remained in assignment. But as the days went on, the necessity for such and intervention there diminished. True, Ordenite colonization of Fustera with Ralkovian emigres could be a problem so close to home, but all that was in the remote future. It was out of the President’s hair for now.

The situation in the Tarao countries was a growing concern to Foreign Affairs, and Secretary Falkowski was mentioning it more frequently at the Monday morning review sessions. Talks were underway in Tongolosi, capital of Samarasta to discuss the situation there, in particular the invasion of Ladero, with The Golden Throne, Holy Marsh, and Aman. Alan Grossman, from the department’s Military and Political Affairs was honchoing the Eitoan participation there. So far, in his communications back to Vladarsik, he let it be known that Archbishop Luboski viewed the Tarao countries as a secondary staging area to cut off Regime Ralkovian commerce to the Bay of Chains. This was all very admirable, but the silence from the Aman regime was a considerable roadblock to any commitment of Eitoan forces in Ladero, or neighboring countries. She did have to forces assigned for intervention in Fustera still available to put on the table, if a move to shore up Ladero was needed. King Harold had not relinquished commitment of his contingent, and thus the Tupiocan resources remained under Eitoan command. The two divisions plus assigned to the Expeditionary Force, and the 7th Air Force also remained in place. The 7th in particular would be of primary importance in Ladero, with it’s enhanced air lift capabilities. The Southern Flotilla was configured for confrontation in Fustera, but pressures from the Navy were mounting for the release of naval assets, basically naval aviation. Project Marble, a planned reduction in Regimen Ralkovian capabilities was moving toward a likely active status, and with the Army looking nervously at it’s transcontinental supply lines and Valkolicki ambivalence toward Federal Ralkovia and The Alliance, those carriers might be needed in The Great Inland Sea. And the complex waterways of The Straight of Asadabad were poor navigation for the assembled fleet. Group Y of the Joint Military Intelligence Service, assembled for operation on Fustera remained in place, but Secretary Maska was already proposing reconfiguration for use in Istoloa.

So it was that much of her attention down south was focused on any possible assignment of forces in support of Istoloa. Here Secretary Falkowski was strident, both with Stegman and Maska. All plans must adhere to Deployment Requirement 918-E, the 1989 law governing assignment of combat commitment or Eitoan forces overseas. Though of little importance at the time, DR918-E had grown in the Shrdlu administration, with the involvement in the War in Krasnova. The administration followed DR918-E to the letter in that case, notifying the Ghastak of the Eitoan Air Force assignment overseas with more than 1000 uniformed personnel. The Ralkovian attack on Aurensia, however, was a no brainer. That had plunged Eitoan into the war with a formal declaration. Istoloa, however was more delicate. Negotiations in Tongolosi were still underway, and unclear. The current direction seemed to be to make use of King Harold’s force of Divine Order of God - 600 Knights and the Eitoan Special Operations Forces Group 101. The SOF strength was classified, neatly skirting DR918-E. These could serve as a scouting party for the 7th Air Force, and remain in country to defend bases there. It was a neat way of stealth assignment, but Louis A. Herb, Chair of the Ghastak did not like the secrecy.

Turning back to the political situation between Istoloa, Ladero and the major powers, Marilyn Stegman stumbled across an idea. Leveraging local sensibilities could be a way of disengaging Istoloa, and, by the way, reducing the optics of Eitoan involvement down south, making Lou Herb’s life easier. Deep in thought, she sketched out a first draft of an approach. She reread the latest dispatches from the embassy in Istoloa. Watching his influence over his foreign island colonies, locked in a war his neighbors to overthrow WEDTAG, Istoloan Emergency President Field Marshal Rodrigo Fremonero seemed to be a man increasingly isolated. Could he be nudged by a gentle reminder of growing big power intervention? He had to be aware of both Holy Marsh and Golden Throne interests in buffeting WEDTAG, and Foreign Affairs had made it’s opinion known in Istoloa.

Stegman gave it more thought, then dashed off a dispatch to Secretary Falkowski.

Andy -

Here’s a thought about Istoloa. We can deploy special forces to Ladero, as we’ve discussed. This will keep things under the radar at home, but let slip to Fremonero that we are scouting bases for the EAF, protect Eitoan air traffic, that sort of thing. Let’s see if we can leverage the Field Marshall into withdrawing from Ladero. He’s got to be looking at Richtofen goose step all over Fustera. That pretty much kills his dreams of a future empire. Let’s use that. Have the embassy in Istoloa send his foreign minister a note. Advise him to get on the bus with WEDTAG and leave continental affairs to the continentals, or face a power big enough to spank him for good.

Any thoughts?

Marilyn.

The day ends. Marilyn goes home. Dinner. An early bedtime. Mr. Stegman beckons, impatiently. Marilyn checks her messages before entering the bedroom.

Marilyn -

I like it.

Per your Istoloa idea, I like it. Let’s develop this. We’ll boogeyman that little turd Fremonero with the Nazis. But do we have the gravitas in the south to pull that off? We may need more punching power. Let’s try running this past the Macabbeans - I’ll get a note off to a Krierlord tomorrow, if there’s no stumbling block we can think of. Let The Golden Throne point out what’s happening in their Istoloa's former colonies. Then if Fedor buys off, that’ll get Fremonero’s attention. Fedor can encourage Istoloa to back off, a little air mail persuasion, if necessary. And we can sponsor a hold a hand kumbiya meeting, peace talks to give the bastard an easy out. It’s a win win, no Eitoans harmed, and the Ghastak goes along fat, dumb, and happy.

We’ll talk in the morning. If it still looks good, I’ll bring it up with the President.

Andy.

[The Macabees]

FEDALA, THE GOLDEN THRONE


"Look, His Imperial Majesty doesn't think that the moment is right. Soon," said a man wearing a light gray suit with brown shoes. He wasn't a kríerlord, nor a jogornos, so was probably some senior staff member assigned to maintaining relations with the Istoloan government-in-exile. He seemed in a hurry to be done with the conversation, as people flowed around them in the hallway in which stood. To the staff member's back was the door of Jogornos Marcos Librososas, head of the imperial diplomatic mission in Istoloa. Most days of the year, the jogornos was seen in Laçolea, but he had just arrived in Fedala in the prior days to report to His Imperial Majesty in person on the developing situation and to give recommendations on policy direction.

It should have been evident to President-in-Exile Teófilo Faria that when he was assigned a mid-level senior staff member as his liaison with the head of the embassy to Istoloa that he just wasn't that highly regarded among the Macabéans. But, there was a chance now with the wars in the Tarao countries that the Golden Throne would open to the idea of regime change in the far west. But, Teófilo Faria could not afford to have pride. It was eight years since he had illegally lost his presidency to Rodrigo Fremonero's military coup. So, if it was a mid-level staff guy to whom he had to speak, then so be it.

Regardless, Faria was livid. "I know that His Excellency Librososas is in the city. It would behoove him to visit with foreign friends, I think."

"The jogornos is in ongoing meetings with His Imperial Majesty, the kríerlord kuncil, and both chambers of the Senatorial Government. Everyone who matters in this city wants to meet with His Excellency Librososas and understand what's going in your country," replied the Macabéan. He sighed, "I will tell the jogornos that you were here. I will find time in his schedule for you. You need to understand that I'm not bullshitting you when I tell you that the man is busy, but I will find some time. Lunch, maybe?"

"Lunch, yes," nodded Faria.

The Macabéan looked at him. "I'm not promising you anything, remember. I'll let you know."

"And when will that be?" questioned the Istoloan.

"After I speak to His Excellency," the Macabéan shrugged. With that said, he turned and went through Librososas' office door, closing it behind him.

Faria turned to two women and a man sitting on a bench on the opposite wall of the hallway. Each of them had a briefcase or a purse, and they were as elegantly dressed as the president-in-exile. The older, brown-haired woman was Eufêmia Maciel, Minister of Finance (in exile). Sitting next to her, in the middle, was Fortunata Moniz, Minister of Justice (in exile). Finally, the wide-shouldered, barrel-bodied man was Xavier Andrade, Minister of National Defense (in exile). In the first decade of the twenty-first century, this group leadered the up-and-coming educated political class of Istoloa, set out to reform the country according to central Greater Díenstadi liberal standards. The 1993 victory of the Democratic-Republican Party had opened politics to the flowering intelligentsia. By the 2000s, momentum was in favor of politicians legislating deep-reaching political reforms looking to pluralize the country's government. Decades of Istoloan Revolutionary People's Party had turned stale, then ugly with war, and change was in vogue. Faria was a handsome 44-year-old man when he won his first election in 2013, after spending years as an important and highly-respected parliamentarian. Now, they were basically beggars.

"I will make sure I meet Mr. Librososas for lunch tomorrow," said Faria.

Moniz stood first. "They treat us like nothing. What makes you think he'll actually agree to speak with you?"

What she said was humiliatingly true. The government-in-exile had lived in Safehaven for years, but at the break of the Havenic Civil War had emigrated again, this time to Fedala. But, there was not even yet a drop of interest in supporting a handful of intellectuals in their quest to restore the democratic government of some decrepit country in the far west. His Imperial Majesty recognized the dictator Rodrigo Fremonero as the legitimate leader of Istoloa and important members of the Imperial Bureaucracy treated the government-in-exile as little more than pariahs.

"Things are changing," replied Faria. "Fustera in Ordenite hands has changed the game in the area. Rumors are that His Imperial Majesty received Jurado Mabuto not more than several days ago, and Samarasta is as good as vassalized I think. Istoloa is more stable and wealthy than Samarasta, and Fremonero was made a mistake in starting a war in Sorofi and with Ladero. New days are coming to Istoloa. It's important that we catch the emperor's attention however we can, even if I have to call that scumbag assistant of Librososas every half-an-hour to make sure he books me in for tomorrow. Otherwise, we might not have the friends to sit at the table when the future of our country is re-determined. He will have to see me tomorrow because I have to see him."



EASTERN LADERO


That war had escalated quickly since Jogornos Librososas had left for the capital. As he was in Fedala and unable to speak with a representative of Istoloa in person, as would have been preferred, the embassy in Laçolea was instructed to instead send a secure digital letter to its liaison with the government. The letter "strongly recommended" that Fremonero reconsider his war in Ladero and support for Irat in Sorofi. It warned of potential military action by part of a coalition, which probably went without saying since Holy Marsh had already publicized as much or more. More importantly, the letter offered an opportunity to open a diplomatic channel for the resolution of the Tarao conflicts in a way that would stabilize the geopolitical situation. It asked their liaisons to work with embassy staff to set a time for a meeting between Fremonero and Librososas, pending his arrival back in the country.

Three full mechanized divisions and elements of a fourth had been airlifted into Ladero over a series of days. Istoloan divisions were smaller than their counterparts in, for example, the Golden Throne, and there were a total of some 50,000 soldiers across the straits. These had moved westward relatively quickly, counting on an efficient resupply stream to keep the momentum of operations going.

However, the threat of an impending large-scale deployment of Marshite military units to Ladero was enough to nearly immediately freeze conventional operations. Last-minute attacks adjusted the front lines to ensure that they were tactically advantageous to the Istoloans, but otherwise the offensive was halted and a muted announcement made from Laçolea that a temporary ceasefire had been put in place pending a reunion of PANTEU members. Representatives from each of the Tarao countries were invited to Cambosea, in Istaloa, to discuss the reorganization of PANTEU. There was a general feeling that Istaloa would have to offer better terms to Ladero than originally anticipated to induce them into an agreement, but perhaps that would be abetted by the general demand for security among the Tarao countries and the threat of perpetually ongoing asymmetric warfare. Furthermore, there were bigger things going on now, as Istoloa's former colonies to the east were being progressively swallowed up by foreign great powers. Perhaps giving Ladero more of a leadership role in the economic aspects of a new PANTEU could afford Istoloa the room to take on a more significant military role if PANTEU evolved into more than just a trade alliance.

Notably, no invitations were sent out to either Holy Marsh or the Golden Throne, or any other external power. Istoloa intended the initial round of discussions to be specific to what it deemed the states within its historical sphere of influence — obviously a play to remain in control of events. Still, the threat of outside intervention could not just be ignored and so dignitaries from Holy Marsh, the Golden Throne, and Eitoan were invited for a series of discussions in the idyllic town of Complusa. The primary topic of discussion was set to be the threat of growing Ordenite influence in Fustera and the creation of a program for its containment. By taking a stance on events in their former colonies to the east, Istoloa hoped to take pressure off itself and also put itself in a position to have a say in the future of the eastern components of its historical sphere of influence.

In the meantime, while conventional operations in Ladero were frozen, Istoloa made efforts to continuously improve its position. Given the harsh external response to the Istaloan invasion of Ladero — a response that Istoloa harshly criticized as a thin veil for foreign imperialism —, a different course of action would need to be taken if these immediate talks did not lead to a satisfactory conclusion to the conflict. As such, deployments across the strait continued, although they did not include any known regular Istoloan military units and neither were they publicized, or in the same volume. Instead, the increase in forces in Ladero was now cut to a trickle and none wore the insignia of the Istoloan armed forces or even police forces. They were "volunteers," over which the Istoloan government claimed no power, joining various "home-grown" Laderan militias seeking to protect the Istaloan ethnic minority in Ladero, which "saw itself under threat of extinction at the hands of the Laderan majority." Thousands of so-called volunteers made their way to eastern Ladero by small craft, typically south of the straits behind the Istaloan blockade.



MACABÉAN DIPLOMATIC INITIATIVES

The Golden Throne, which interests in Istoloa had grown from a narrow focus on combating Ordenite influence in the area and maintaining its military control over certain river routes to Ralkovia, was conducting some diplomacy of its own as the situation took shape. For one, it responded to Eitoani recommendations and initiatives. Full backing was given to Eitoan to diplomatically resolve the conflict, but the Golden Throne strongly voiced its opinion that any and all anti-Istaloan military operations should be indefinitely postponed.

To Holy Marsh, the Golden Throne had sent emergency cables requesting that the country cancel its deployment of troops to Ladero. It warned that the short-term gains of an immediate military resolution to the situation would come with the risk of many long-term setbacks. First, it would leave the predominate local power resentful, and it would incentivize Istoloa to find future solutions to its needs that were much more covert and difficult to deal with. Second, it also risked pushing Istoloa to the United World Order, something that would certainly come about over the long run if all Istoloa could associate Holy Marsh and others with was military humiliation. On the flip side, it was still early enough to bring about a diplomatic resolution that might give all parties something positive, while also focusing any Istoloan resentment toward foreign powers in the direction of the Ordenite-occupiers in Fustera (and the Golden Throne in Samarasta, but that was not something the Macabéans were concerned with). In other words, if gone about in the right way, a different means to resolving the conflict could turn a potential enemy into an important local ally.

Finally, encouragement was sent to both Eitoan and Holy Marsh to accede to the request for diplomatic talks by part of Istoloa and explore the options of creating an anti-Ordenite bloc in western Greater Díenstad. It suggested, through these same highly classified channels, that while Ladero was an up-and-coming economic power, Istoloa remained the best positioned to keep the area together and avoid any further fragmentation that would provide the Reich an opportunity to leverage these cracks.

[Eitoan]

Vladarsik, Eitoan
Department of Foreign Affairs

Marilyn Stegman was in the middle of her weekly conference with her Central Greater Dienstad Secton that morning, all the heads of the country desks in attendance. The heads of the Greal and Novo Orantes desks were deep in discussion about proposed money laundering regualtions, waiting for a call from the National Reserve Bank of Eitoan over a sticking point, when her phone emitted a familiar ringtone.

Recognizing the call immediately, she moved away from the table and murmured quietly into the phone, then pardoned herself “Guys - the boss. I have to take this”. Ducking into the hall, she returned to the conversation with Secretary Falkowski. “Yes, Andy, go ahead”.

“Marilyn, I had a chat with a Krierlord last night. We’ve got feedback on our proposals. It’s generally positive, though I need to go over some things with you. But first,we’re going to take up the Istoloan invitation to Complusa. Seems they’ve saved us the effort of scaring them with the Orenites.” Falkowski chuckled. So we’re going to go there, or should I say you are. I know that may upset some plans, but since they’ve got their concerns and have held off in Ladero, this is a good opportunity to show concern. Be sympathetic, you know, that sort of thing. But I wouldn’t lay it on too thick. Just let Richtofen have his sadistic murderers run rampant in Fustera, Fremonero is already getting the message”.

Marilyn considered her words. “Well, alright Andy. This must be pretty important. And just wait until those Richtofen loses those bloodthirsty Ralkovian Death Guard on the Fusteran gentry’s wives and daughters. Fremonero will be kissing Fedor’s feet! But what’s the direction we want to take there?”

“As I’ve said, take it easy on addressing the Reich directly. Let the Istoloans carefully consider their step. Fedala doesn’t want a heavy stamp on these talks, just pointing Istoloa in the right direction. I think we can help with this. The long term objectives are sympatico. Since they’ve stalled in the Ladero wars, they may be looking for a way out. Let’s keep this general and vague”, Falkowski advised.

“Right.” Stegman agreed. “Our line has been for westerners to solve western problems. We’ll continue with this. It’s guidance, but with a light touch. I’ll try to move the talks toward soothing tensions in the Shartourn. That’s the starting point, then talking up the benefits of economic integration. I’m sure it’s not Fremonero’s top priority, but long term we should get this moved up”.

---

The Republic of Eitoan
Department of Foreign Affairs
Vladarsik, Eitoan

To: The Republic of Istoloa
Foreign Ministry
Loçelea, Istoloa


We are in receipt of your gracious invitation to a meeting in Compulsa, Istoloa to understand and discuss recent events impacting our western continent, and present to you for attendance Mrs. Marilyn Stegman, Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs for The Republic of Eitoan. Please extend to her every courtesy that you would extend to me during her attendance. Mrs. Stegman is my second in command, and her attendance underscores the level of attention to which we give the concerns of the states in the Shartourn Sea area.

In general, we have always proposed that western problems demand western solutions and believe this is the best approach to the recent unfortunate events in the region. We note with concern, as do you reports out of Fustera, and would prefer to isolate such things to that unhappy country. Indeed, we have, along with our northern continental neighbors seen an uptick in immigration requests from that area since the rise in interests of the major powers in Fustera, Samarasta and Tupenga. It would be against the interests of all if such conditions were to arise further in the Tarao neighborhood.

To that extent, and to understand what measures the continental west may take in concert, we will listen intently to your concerns. Overall, and in the long term we have maintained that greater economic integration among the states on the continent holds the greatest promise for regional stability and are willing to discuss and encourage ways for Istoloa and it’s neighbors to get on track in this direction. Such moves should provide a counterbalance to off continent large power schemes as have been observed in the outer Shartourn.


Andrew Falkowski
Secretary of Foreign Affairs
The Republic of Eitoan

[Holy Marsh]

The Matriarchy responded to the Golden Throne's diplomatic cables quickly. It could not cancel all deployments- indeed, the airborne battalions and two anti-air regiments had already arrived alongside the 501st Air Wing. However, it would hold the two Marine divisions and all their support elements that had been earmarked for deployment back. In these cables, the Marshites would be open about Operation: Ambition's Coffin, the invasion of Istoloa. While unlikely to play out- Operation: Freedom's Shield was more heavily favored- both entailed a large deployment that had already been planned and logistically worked out. They intimated that while the capability and willingness to commit were there, the Matriarchy shared the Golden Throne's desire for a peaceful resolution. They could not abandon Ladero at this moment, after forces had arrived, however. What they could do was forestall further deployments and have Marshite forces maintain a purely defensive posture. If Istoloa was truly capable of being a partner, even an ally, in larger affairs then it could not possibly take issue with such a stance.

To the Istoloans, Holy Marsh responded thusly:

"From the Desk of the Arch-Bishop:

We accept your offer of a cordial meeting to discuss matters. Do note that while we come in peace and are prepared to find a diplomatic solution to this issue, our support for Ladero in defending itself against any further aggression from your armed forces is resolute and unflinching. We shall meet you with honesty and a desire for peace, and hope you do the same."

Such a meeting could be seen by Ladero as a means of the Theocracy seeking a way out. In order to salve any concerns, the Matriarchy arranged for several offers to be made to the government of Ladero. The first was an item by item restocking of the Laderan Air Force and other military forces that had suffered casualties. These would be purchased for free, with future payments to be discussed once the crisis had passed. The second was a massive infusion of capital to stabilize themselves economically, and the promise of future aid. The final offer was an assurance- that while the deployment thusly was small, should any further escalation occur they were prepared to move forward with greater force. They sought greater cooperation with Ladero on strategic and tactical concerns as they started to develop a significant and growing intelligence playbook in the nation, aimed at keeping tabs on the Istoloans as much as possible.


A message was delivered to the negotiators of the warring parties of Irat and Sorofi in their meeting. It politely, but sternly, informed Irat that its invasion was being increasingly viewed as foolhardy and built on sand. It had forty-eight hours to start a general withdrawal and was to complete a complete withdrawal within an agreed-upon timeline. If they failed to do so, then in order to maintain peace, the Matriarchy would be forced to give intelligence and funding to the Sorofi military until the Iratians were expelled. To Sorofi it asked that when such a retreat took place, that it would not take the opportunity to launch a counter-invasion- as 'honor may demand'. If it did so, then the offer given to Sorofi in its defense would be given to Irat. Both offers included the implied threat of military intervention, though never directly mentioned. Both nations were given promises of economic and military aid if they would end the war on peaceful terms.

All three nations were informed that WEDTAG was an economic and political block that could grow to become one of the great influencers of the region, and one that they would benefit greatly from. They would play second fiddle to no one, but would instead be masters of their own fate, equals and friends alike. A united front against their old oppressors or subservience to the very same- that was their choice.

[Greater Ordena]

Ordenite Embassy to the Republic of Istoloa,
Loçelea, Istoloa.

Adler Ritter was a busy man as of late following recent events concerning the Second Tarao War and other developments elsewhere such as in Fustera and Tupenga. He served as the Ordenite ambassador to the Republic of Istoloa and had been in his current post since 2021 following the retirement of the former Ordenite ambassador. Ordenite interests in Istoloa and it's former colonial possessions had evolved due to recent events surrounding the on-going war in the Tarao countries in which Istoloa wanted to bring them back under the fold. Istoloa was seen as a potential ally or at the very least a potential major trading partner for the Ordenite Reich especially following the collapse of the Ralkovian Empire. Now with The Golden Throne in Samarasta and other local powers beginning to intervene in the on-going war, this was seen as an opportunity to sway the Istoloan government to it's side. At the very least the Ordenites looked to diplomatically block out the Golden Throne and if possible turn the Republic of Istoloa against them as to not risk the country possibly siding with the Macabeans. A diplomatic channel was therefore opened between the Ordenite Reich Chancellery and the Republic of Istoloa which the latter would soon receive a missive from the Chief of the Reich Chancellery, Ulrich Fischer.

Ordenite Reich Chancellery
Berlina, Ordena

To: Government of the Republic of Istoloa

It has come to the attention of the Reichsfuhrer and the Ordenite government that the Republic of Istoloa is facing trying times. The Tarao countries which the Republic have sought to reel in are now receiving foreign backing and the troublesome former colonial holding of Samarasta has aligned with the likes of The Golden Throne. The Republic of Istoloa should not have to stand such foreign imperialism when at one point in history the Istoloan Empire was an empire not to be trifled with but such is the past. The Greater Ordenite Reich has no qualms with the Republic of Istoloa and recent events involving Fustera were only a meer reaction to the meddling of foreign powers such as The Golden Throne. We would like to urge the Republic of Istoloa and it's politicians and leaders to move with caution concerning The Golden Throne and speaking from experience, they are cowardly and will find the best opportune moment to take advantage of such trying times that the Republic now faces. However the Republic does not have to face these hardships on it's own, the Greater Ordenite Reich is more than willing to offer it's hand in friendship. As a sign of good will between nations the Ordenite Reich Chancellery is prepared to have our Reichsfuhrer sign off on the delivery of military aid to the Republic of whatever the Istoloan Armed Forces may be in dire need of. We hope this missive is received well and that the Republic consider the Greater Ordenite Reich as a friend and not a foe as it should view the Golden Throne as.

Sincerely signed,
Ulrich Fischer, Chief of the Ordenite Reich Chancellery.